


New Lands

by SillyBlue



Series: Pagan Gods Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, First Meetings, M/M, Missionary Castiel, Pagan God Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 01:29:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7915120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SillyBlue/pseuds/SillyBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel gets to know the lands where he will try to spread Christianity under the banner of St. Michael's Church. Unkown to him, the local god is watching him with interest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Lands

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on the [Pagan God Dean Verse.](http://pagangoddean.tumblr.com) The verse is mostly art based but I've also written some short, loosely connected ficlets. This first part of the series aims to introduce the setting.

 

The train of carriages moved slowly, the ground damp from recently thawed snow. The morning gloom had finally relented, releasing its hold on the lands. Shy glimpses of the sun were making the countryside light up in bursts of green, flecks of white. Castiel held the reigns of the horse in his hand, accompanied by abbot Zachariah himself and two other silent robed figures that had yet to speak to him.

“Usually, this time of the year, we don’t really bother with the monastery yet. Most of us reside in the town, but I understand that you’re used to averse weather conditions out in heathen lands,” the abbot's voice drifted to Castiel, who continued to busy himself trying to take in the landscape. Even so early in the year, Castiel could see the beauty in it and he imagined the lands in spring, in summer. All the colors and the warmth that surely couldn’t be all that different to his last employment. “Are you listening, Lord Novak?”

“My apologies, I was taken in by the nature,” Castiel said, skipping a puddle on the surprisingly well maintained road. “And yes. I think I will get used to the weather, though I heard that it can get cold.”

“That it does. But you won’t have to miss all luxuries. The fires are often burning,” Zachariah said with a smile. That seemed almost decadent to Castiel, considering how his last place of work had been a damp hole where the only fireplace had been in the kitchen. He didn’t miss much about the comforts of his life before the mission, but warmth? Fires? Blankets? Those were the luxuries that Castiel liked to have if possible. “As you have set your heart on the mission, I think you’d be better off here out in the field than in the monastery back in the town.”

“I agree,” Castiel was quick to answer, petting the horse’s neck absent-mindedly.

“And your brother’s family? Are they sure they want to move up here?”

“You said you were looking for a new tenant for St. Michaels village?” The abbot nodded. “Jimmy and Amelia are well-suited for the task. They are willing to do this work for the community until my service here is done.” The abbot seemed pleased with the answer and they sunk back into silence. Their walk through the hills was agreeable to Castiel, the air clean and fresh and invigorating after staying in town for four weeks to brush up on his language skills and learn about local history.

As they walked Castiel’s gaze fell on the stone markers set next to the road. The stones were maybe knee high, with runes etched into them that Castiel had trouble placing. There were dried flowers put on the one closest to him. He encountered more such stones all along the path they took, most of them within sight of each other. Castiel assumed they were road marks. In the distance he could see hills and bigger stones placed seemingly arbitrarily into the landscape. He had become accustomed to these stone formations back in Britain. Places of worship and ritual of older days. They had always drawn Castiel’s attention, though he rarely had time to explore. Maybe this time it would be different. The Christian community here was small though and the families he’d have to offer his missionary efforts to apparently happy with their heathen beliefs. It would take a lot of work to change their ways for the better, but Castiel was patient.

A fleck of color made Castiel lift his gaze. There were still patches of snow in the shadows of the hills but there were also lines of colors drawn across the land that stretched before Castiel. He gazed at them in awe once he noticed that the lines seemed to connect some of the stone formations and appeared to be flowers.

“What are those?” Castiel asked and the abbot looked over his shoulder and then into the direction where Castiel pointed.

“The locals call them Dean’s wanderings,” he said, the corner of his mouth pulled up into a small dismissive smile. But Castiel was intrigued.

“What do they mean? What’s a Dean?” Castiel wondered and now the abbot laughed. Castiel was used to people finding his curiosity amusing, but it was good for a missionary to be curious about the culture he was a guest in.

“Dean is the principal deity of the local pantheon. We’ll be passing his main stone circle soon so you can get a look at him. But you’ll see him all around,” the abbot explained. “Legend goes that every morning he makes his rounds through the rune stones and his benevolent magic and warmth make flowers grow on the paths he walks.” The abbot seemed amused by this, but also slightly charmed by the little tale. Castiel smiled. “So, maybe if you’re lucky you’ll cross paths.” The abbot joked. “I heard you like to walk.”

“Oh yes.”

“You’ll like this placement, I’m sure of it. Lots of walking to do,” the abbot said. Castiel sure hoped so.

It wasn’t midday yet when Castiel saw houses in the distance. A hill rose not too far away and the abbot motioned towards it.

“Go. Have a look,” he said, “I’ll be walking on.” Castiel didn’t have to be told twice and started to walk up the hill. There was a small path leading up, not too steep but Castiel was still pleasantly winded once he reached the top. A gush of air ruffled his hair, pulling at his black cloak. There were big stones arranged in a circle. Not as towering as the monuments at Stonehenge had been, but still imposing. He approached the biggest one, drawn by the etchings and the color rubbed into the stone and the lines. They looked fresh, like this site was well-maintained. There was also an offering at the foot of the stone. Castiel didn’t want to disturb it but still approached to have a closer look at this god that made flowers grow in winter. The etchings were of a god with dark eyes, lines carved across his nose and a smile stretching his lips. He wore what Castiel guessed to be a fur coat and between his hands he cradled a small home above which a protective fire was burning.

Castiel was mesmerized by the care with which this carving had been made, how much warmth it radiated. This god was a good god, a friendly one.

“He looks nice,” Castiel thought and reached out, brushing his fingers over the sun warmed stone, tracing the line of the figure’s jaw.

“Castiel! Come!” The abbot’s voice called him out of his thoughts and Castiel turned away from the stone.

“Yes,” he called back and then walked down the hill.

Behind him, the stone shone in the sun. Soon the surface seemed to ripple and glimmer and then a figure stepped out of it, a look of wonder and delight on his face. Black lines were drawn across his nose and freckled cheeks, a blush adding more color to his winter pale skin. He smiled, watching the missionary join the other black clad monk, on the way to the nearby monastery of St. Michaels.

Dean took the gift tied in a scrap of fabric off the ground. The first picked flowers of spring and a piece of coal to thank for a fire that had burned well in this last night of winter.

Spring would now start, new life had come to the Christian village of St. Michaels and Dean was sure he’d see more of this young, radiant human.

**Author's Note:**

> [Here's](http://pagangoddean.tumblr.com/post/98647531232/diminuel-meeting-for-the-first-time-more-of) a matching doodle comic.


End file.
